


i think i was born for your eyes only

by Quintessentia



Series: Peanut Gallery [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Kidnapping, Liam Dunbar is Theo Raeken's Anchor, Liam is mostly unconscious, M/M, Mason has the patience of a saint, Other, Possessive Behavior, Theo's teeth could probably be listed as supporting characters too tbh, also featuring: that one hunter who never seems to know when to stop, outside pov, some gore, that's how often they appear, warning for Theo's trademark theatrics, wherein by possessive i mean Theo is basically an attack dog
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-28
Updated: 2021-02-28
Packaged: 2021-03-12 00:53:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,317
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29751615
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Quintessentia/pseuds/Quintessentia
Summary: "Theo pauses, forehead pressed to Liam's cheek as though he's stabilizing himself, and the tension in the air is suffocating, held back by something wire thin and Mason braces himself for the snap."In which Mason is tied up, Liam is unconscious, and Theo is toeing the line between animal and human. A look at Liam and Theo's weird relationship through Mason's eyes, all while chained up in a dirty basement.
Relationships: Liam Dunbar/Theo Raeken
Series: Peanut Gallery [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2191677
Comments: 18
Kudos: 176





	i think i was born for your eyes only

**Author's Note:**

> So, because I am wholly unfamiliar with making wise or intelligent decisions, I decided to re-immerse myself in Teen Wolf more than three years after the show has ended, because why not. I discovered Theo's character a solid two weeks ago, and here I am, writing fic after a minimum four year break. The things I do to feed my own obsessions.
> 
> Anyways, Outside POV's are one of my favorite things ever, especially when they involve commentary on my favorite ships. Mason, because I love him, gets the honor (or maybe the curse) of getting a front row seat to the ridiculousness I've cooked up. If I have the time, you might get more installments from other members of the pack, because what else do I have to do with my life?
> 
> Please leave me feedback, it's been years since I've been here and my sad little heart craves it. Title is from "Annoying" by Mod Sun, which could kind of be Thiam-esque, if you squint while listening.

Mason wakes to the sound of an animal whining, somewhere.

He registers it blearily, through the pounding of his head and the musty wet smell of the room--Basement? Dungeon?--he's in. They've got him cuffed, trussed up to some sort of metal grate attached to the wall, and the angle is awkward. His wrists ache, elbows throbbing from the uncomfortable way they'd wrenched his arms behind him.

When he blinks some of the fog away, remembering flashes from before--shouts, gunshots, more growls than Mason would've thought appropriate for such a situation in a former life--his neck prickles coldly. He's grimy, sweaty, and damp, dirt from the filthy floor caked into his jeans and he swears there's a smear of something just as foul on his cheek. He tries not to think about it.

The animal is still whining, he realizes after a few more moments of personal disgust. It's low, distressed, and persistent. He's gotten good at categorizing animal emotions in the past year, ever since Liam dropped the whole 'werewolf' bombshell on him in the school that one time. Mason being Mason, he'd spent a frankly alarming amount of time educating himself on wolves and coyotes, and by extension, the broad range of ways in which they expressed themselves.

Liam had made fun of him for it once. ' _We're not actually animals, dude,_ ' he'd protested flatly, but he hadn't even sounded certain of himself when he'd said it, and having some semblance of knowledge made Mason feel better, okay? It was what he was good at, it was his _thing_ \--the only thing he had to his name when it seemed like everyone else in their corner was built like a brick shithouse with teeth and claws to match.

So the sound, animal as it is, rings almost familiar in his bones as he looks around, trying to place it, trying to place _himself_. It's not the first time he's been kidnapped, or the first time he's been in a life threatening situation, but he hadn't been alone when the hunters had showed up and he's definitely not alone now, so…

He notices Theo first, strangely enough, but Mason chalks it up to survival instincts, knowing your enemy, that sort of thing. Theo's technically not there to kill them anymore, Mason knows that logically, but like hell will Mason ever consider them _on the same side_. Mason has friends, has an entire pack despite not even being a wolf, and he knows the difference between someone who cares and someone who only knows how to pretend.

Theo is hunched over where he's been cuffed--no, _chained_ \--to the grate on the other side of the room. Mason can't see with any real clarity in the pitiful light coming from the weak bulb on the ceiling above them, but the chains, soot-black and impossibly thick, clink resonantly together as Theo heaves out a labored breath.

It makes sense, he knows, registering through the almost casual panic that flits across his mind. Mason is human, soft; there's no need to waste chains thicker than his forearm on someone like him. The standard issue handcuffs are more than enough to keep him in place, but they'd never hold Theo, not when's angry, anyways.

He tries to swallow down the realization, the horror, of what that means. These are hunters, blind with fury and steeped up to their blunt little teeth in hypocrisy. They'd locked Mason down here with Theo-- _where the hell is Liam_? his mind stutters, white-hot and fearful--but they hadn't bothered to chain him up as though he too, was a wolf.

Because Mason is human, and yet he's still down here. Still one of the pack, still a traitor, maybe? The thought almost makes him laugh, at the idea of being a traitor to the whole human race, just for fraternizing with _werewolves_ of all things.

He's torn from his frazzled thoughts when Theo shifts in his peripheral vision, the animal noise shifting with him, and Mason's brain scrambles to make the connection.

Theo's bloody, his t-shirt shredded at the arm and stained dark as the fabric sticks to his skin. There's a wound--a bullet wound--half healed on his bicep, a single small, dark, sucking hole that seems to be trying and failing to heal itself, to expel the foreign object that's undoubtedly still lodged in the meat of Theo's arm.

It's difficult to tell from the angle Theo's twisted himself into, but Mason thinks he sees more blood on the front of his shirt, thinks _oh_ , because Theo must have been shot multiple times, must be trying and failing to heal successfully through each and every one of them.

He follows the line of Theo's sight, because the chimera isn't looking at him, isn't tugging at his own chains or watching the only door opposite their side of the room. He hunches in further, and Mason can see the slickness of sweat and dirt on his neck, soaking into the collar of his shirt. He's in pain, it's plain as day even without a clear visual of Theo's face, but his gaze is fixed on something, _no_ \--Mason's heart seizes in his chest when he realizes that's it's _someone_ \--crumpled in the shadows next to him.

Mason knows Liam when he sees him, bad lighting and relentless headache or not. His best friend isn't conscious, a heap of cloth and limbs and sticky hair matted to his face and neck from where the hunters have left him chained up beside Theo. He's quiet, still, _too_ still, and Mason's heart takes off running like a terrified animal all on it's own.

He wants to call out, to ask Liam if he's awake, alive, _anything_ , but the sound catches in his raw throat and sticks there, traitorous.

Theo leans in, half blocking Mason's view of Liam, and if Mason was a wolf he would've been growling by now too, because how dare Theo take up so much space when Liam's not even conscious, might not even be _breathing_ , and--

The animal noise changes again, this time to something more aggrieved, and Mason realizes with an abrupt wash of cold horror that the noise is coming from _Theo_.

Theo, who's hunching in towards Liam where he's sprawled bonelessly against the grate, Theo's own movement slow, inquisitive, _afraid_.

Mason wants to shout when Theo grips at the sleeve of Liam's shirt, the low, subvocal whine in his throat never faltering as he presses closer to Mason's best fucking friend in the whole world, and nuzzles into the crook of his neck.

The chains are only so long, and Theo seems to be straining against them, trying to eat up the space around Liam's body with his own as he--smells him? A wild, delirious thought swims to the forefront of Mason's mind-- _werewolves_ , he reminds himself. It's always about scent with them, whether they're honest about it or not.

Whatever Theo finds, whatever he _smells_ there in Liam's neck, he must not like it, because the whine chokes off into something else, a disgruntled yowl that ends gruff and pained.

Theo sounds _miserable_ , and Mason glares at him, trying to refocus his own thoughts. He's seen his fair share of weird shit, especially from Liam, and he gives him grief about it every now and again, like any good friend. But this--this is _Theo_. They're not friends, and Theo's not even a real werewolf-- _he's also a coyote_ , Mason's mind supplies helpfully--but he doesn't sound angry or irritated, _no_.

He sounds like he's _grieving_ , and Mason's stomach sinks so fucking low he thinks it might actually drop out of his body.

He's about to do something, to work up the courage to ask, to demand answers, even if Theo doesn't have any to give, when something in the air shifts and Theo's head snaps up.

Mason feels a different kind of fear set itself alight inside him when his not-friend growls, that unmistakable yellow glow bleeding into his eyes as he catches on to something Mason can't hear. Theo's staring at the door, and after a moment Mason starts to hear footsteps, heavy and dragging, like the hunters are all wearing those clunky combat boots that seem to be standard issue in their line of work.

The door swings open, a harsh beam of light casting itself upon Theo and Liam's bodies, and Mason could _cry_ at the sight. Liam's skin is pale under the glow, damp with perspiration and there's something foul and black drizzling from his lips, something that can only mean _sickness_ , and Mason's heart clenches. The cuffs around Liam's wrists are slick with blood, the skin sloughing off around them in a red mess as the flesh burns, raw and exposed beneath the metal.

' _Mountain ash'_ , Mason thinks, and then, ' _Wolfsbane too. He's been poisoned_.'

He spares a thought for Theo's own well being, notes the lack of bleeding and swelling around Theo's own cuffs, and remembers that mountain ash does fuck all to keep a chimera in check, and wolfsbane is only half as potent as it would be against a full-breed like Liam. He thinks of the gunshot wounds struggling to close, the tainted bullets still wearing away at the muscle inside and tries to quell the nausea in his gut.

It's just one guy, one single human in the doorway, and he stiffens in place, one foot across the threshold when he locks eyes with Theo, barely ten feet away and chained to the wall.

"Easy, mutt," the guy cautions, and Theo snaps at him, fangs gnashing as a snarl rips from his throat. His eyes are wild, unhinged, and Mason's never seem him this out of sorts, not even when they were lost in the sewers nearly three months ago, trapped with a creature that turned your blood to liquid fear before it turned you to stone.

The guy, whose self preservation instincts are either severely underdeveloped or just falsely placated by the presence of the massive chains holding Theo back, takes another step forward.

Theo growls again, this time a rancorous thing, crawling up from somewhere deep in his chest and rumbling like the beginning of a terrible, violent storm.

The hunter raises both arms, his palms gripped around the neck of--Mason would've choked on his own laughter if he hadn't been about to suffocate from sheer terror--a fucking aluminum bat. His arms quiver, hands flexing around the metal as he holds it aloft, as though a fucking bat is going to stop whatever animal is inside Theo, whatever it is that's clawed its way to the surface with no sign of retreating.

Theo, predictably, isn't quelled, just presses his side more firmly to Liam's slumped body, and that's when Mason _realizes_.

The other guy doesn't seem to pick up on the same notion, too stupid to understand wolves and monsters and anything about the way Theo's shaking with rage in front of him.

"I said," he repeats, a croak in his voice, " _easy_ , mutt. It's not you I want, it's him." He gestures towards Liam with the bat, holding it out in front of him like it's an actual weapon as he inches closer.

Closer to Liam.

Theo _roars_.

It's deafening, and Mason swears he can feel the grate rattling behind him at the force of the sound. He'll never get used to it, not really, even when he hears it coming from someone he trusts, like Liam or Scott.

The hunter pales, nearly dropping the bat as he stumbles away, and Mason distantly hears the sound of shouting, of more boots on concrete as the light from the doorway disappears when two more bodies crowd into it.

"What the hell?" one of the newcomers hisses, registering the scene in front of them. "I thought he was supposed to be out cold."

"He was," the first guy, the one with the bat, protests weakly. "We shot him up good back there, he took at least four of my special bullets and those cuffs are fucking coated in mountain ash. His insides should be _dissolving_."

"He's no Alpha," the third guy points out the obvious, Theo's furious yellow gaze pinning them all in place. "No wolf should be standing with the amount of shit that's probably in his veins right now, so what gives?"

Theo's shoulders shake, and for a moment Mason thinks he might be sagging, collapsing ironically beneath the weight of the poison and the exhaustion, but then a horrible, garbled sound comes from his mouth and Mason realizes he's _laughing_.

"Idiots," Theo says, but the word sounds wrong between his teeth and tongue, like it's coming from something else's throat, and Mason nearly gives in to the nausea churning inside of him.

The hunters freeze, their fear ice cold amongst the heavy stench of sweat and misery permeating the air, something even Mason can sense, and Theo's laugh turns deep and distorted.

"I'm no fucking wolf," he sneers, the creature, the _chimera_ rearing its ugly head behind every syllable. Mason can hardly make out the words behind the anger, the sick sort of glee he's seen on Theo's face before, but this time it's different, secondary to the fury winning the battle for dominance over Theo's expression.

The bones in his face shift beneath his skin, forward and then back, as though the monster is writhing there, as though it's going to split Theo open and come spilling out of his insides in a vicious, wet mess.

One of the hunters sneers back, disgusted and far too brave in the face of something he clearly knows so little about. These people, Mason realizes, have no idea how to contend with actual werewolves, much less a walking, talking, _snarling_ mad science experiment. They have no idea what Theo can do, what he's done, but Mason does--he was _there_.

"We're not here for you," the hunter with the bat says again, and Mason really shouldn't be surprised that he hasn't learned a damn thing from the spectacle in front of him, but then again, it's not Mason's funeral they'll be attending if the guy moves any closer. "We came for the other beta, the first-bitten one, got it? Stand down and we'll leave you be. For now."

"That's not gonna happen." Theo crouches lower, poised to attack, as though the chains around his wrists are merely strings to be broken. He's blocking nearly all of Liam's body at this point, the growl from before back in his chest, a guttural, persistent thing. "You can try it, though. You can sure as hell give it your best _shot_."

He bares his teeth, upper lip curling on the last word, and Mason is sick with dread, his stomach cold and squeezing in on itself at the look on Theo's face.

"Hey!" he shouts, the word slipping out unbidden, stupid, reckless. _Liam is dying_ , he thinks, _maybe he's already dead_ , but he pushes that thought away and fixes the three idiot, _human_ hunters with a glare he hopes looks like more than just a grimace. "I wouldn't get any closer, if I were you."

One of the men in the doorway spares him an irritated glance, like Mason is an afterthought, and wow, does that sting in a way it probably shouldn't.

"How about you shut the hell up," he replies, mouth twisting in a frown, "that is, if you're not gonna tell your _dog_ to try it for himself." He spits at Theo's feet, and Theo snaps at him again, teeth glinting bright as his fangs catch the stream of light trickling in around the hunters' shoulders.

Mason barely suppresses a shudder. He doesn't want to look at Theo, at what little he can see of Liam's ragdoll form behind Theo's silhouette.

"He's not very nice," he hears himself saying, gesturing towards Theo's predator stance with one shoulder. "Seriously, he's on our team and he's not even very nice to _us_ , so I wouldn't actually try your luck with him, not if you wanna keep your throats."

Theo snarls again when the hunters swallow in near comical unison, but he isn't looking at Mason, teeth still on display as he lets the hunters soak in every single one of Mason's words.

Things are silent, save for Mason's fearful breathing and Theo's growling, and the hunters stand stock still as though they're unsure of why they're still here, or maybe because they've forgotten how to move altogether.

"We're gonna need backup," one of the guys in the doorway says finally, and Mason's heart leaps into his throat, beating rabbit-fast. "This one's a loose cannon, fucked up or something. We're gonna need tranqs to get through him, probably."

Bat-guy--Mason wonders if _maybe_ he's concussed, simply for finding the name so funny--snarls back at Theo, a pitiful imitation of the real thing, and points the bat at him none too ceremoniously.

"Fine," he says, backing away as Theo's eyes track him, hawk-like, "you can keep your little toy for now, mutt. Don't get too comfortable, though."

"I will only be comfortable," Theo replies easily, _too_ easily between his fangs, "with my teeth around your windpipe."

Bat-guy chokes, but before he can make a run for it, another ear-splitting roar shakes the foundation of whatever building they're trapped in, and this time it's not from Theo.

Wolf or no wolf, Mason recognizes _Scott_ when he hears him, the distinct timbre of an Alpha's roar rattling him to the bones. Judging by the way Theo's face goes utterly lethal with satisfaction, he does too.

All the color drains from the faces of the three hunters, and Mason sags into the metal behind him with a relief so potent it makes him dizzy.

-.-

Mason is mostly fine, as it turns out.

As fine as he can be, post kidnapping and sharing a cold, wet basement with an angry hybrid and his half-dead best friend, but still. They have to rush Liam to the hospital, and Theo remains invariably pissed off when Scott and the others try to pry Liam away from him, but there are still bullets lodged in his sternum and arm, so no one really pays him any mind.

Mason had been frantic at first, the relief of being rescued still not enough to fight back the fear that Liam might've been too far gone, but Corey--thank fucking _God_ for Corey--had wrapped an arm around his shoulders and told him that Liam's heart was still going, despite everything.

Mason still holds Liam's hand the entire drive to the hospital, because Liam is _his_ best friend and not even Theo can scare him into submission from that. There had been a fair amount of blood and shouting and Melissa had been waiting for them when they'd pulled into the hospital's emergency entrance, ushering both Mason and Theo into the nearest room while Liam had been whisked away into better, more capable hands.

He and Theo had sat, sullen and exhausted, on opposite ends of the hospital bed while Melissa had checked them over. Theo had waved her away, gesturing towards Mason with a disgruntled, "He's the squishy one," before rooting around in his own arm for the offending bullet.

If Mason had gone a little lightheaded at the thought, well, that was no one's business but his and Melissa McCall's.

He'd been sore and his shoulder had ached from the terrible position he'd been cuffed into earlier, but save for some scrapes and a goose egg on the back of his head, he wasn't actually in danger of dying or anything. Not even a concussion.

Theo had grumbled when Melissa yanked his claws out of the wound beneath his ribs, the one that was undoubtedly another bullet hole, and he'd gritted his teeth as she'd worked one, two, _three_ more bullets out from various locations on his body. The wolfsbane had been potent enough to slow his healing, and from the expression on his face it had hurt like a son of a _bitch_ , but the actual bleeding had stopped by the time they'd been found, the skin half healed around the crumpled metal.

Mason had had to lie down when Melissa had tried to dig one from the inside of Theo's right thigh, all while Theo had mocked him loudly for being a fucking baby about _Theo's_ wounds.

Mason had thought about puking on him, and he'd felt just a little bit better.

It was maybe only an hour after they'd arrived that Liam had been declared stable enough to visit, though it had felt like a week with Theo's prickly attitude and Scott's moods fluctuating interchangeably between jittery anticipation and carefully projected calm. The other members of the pack had been milling around like nervous animals, sprawled out across two different floors of the hospital: taking walks, getting coffee, and rooting through the gift shop like they hadn't memorized its contents years prior.

Almost immediately he, Scott, and Theo had posted themselves up in Liam's room, each taking a chair as they watched Liam's chest rise and fall slowly, body knitting itself back together without the hindrance of the wolfsbane still seeping into his cells. He'd looked smaller than ever, tucked between the thin hospital sheets, and Mason had fought off sleep for some time, flagging in the chair with a Styrofoam coffee cup in one hand.

Scott had put a reassuring hand on his shoulder after four straight hours of blinking his way out of sleep, and the look on his face had been gentle, but firm.

"You keep this up and you'll be passed out by the time he does wake up," he'd reprimanded, and Mason had scowled, because Scott was right, just like he always was.

He's not sure exactly when he'd finally crashed, just that Corey had brought him a spare pillow and Mason had insisted he go home with the others. Things had been quiet, after, Scott propped up against the doorway and Theo pressed against the wall in the corner, his breath hitching a little on every other inhale, like his lungs were still healing themselves.

When he wakes again, the light above the sink is on, and Mason is alone in the room, save for Liam, propped up in bed and staring right at him.

Mason blinks, wipes the sleep from his eyes, and watches as Liam raises one eyebrow at him, expression searching.

"Comfy?" he asks, and Mason scoffs as a fresh wave of relief floods his veins. Melissa had given Liam the all clear hours before, said it was only a matter of time and that sleep was the best medicine Liam could get. Still, there's something about seeing Liam awake and moving that prods at something vulnerable and human in Mason's chest.

"Slept like a baby," he replies, and cracks his neck with a wince, hardly trusting his own voice when it comes out. "Thought you were a goner for a little bit there, scared me half to death, dude."

Liam's answering smile is weak, but genuine.

"Just another Friday then?" he jokes, but Mason can hear the exhaustion in it, is about to respond when there's movement in the door way and both of them turn to look.

It's Theo, taking up all the space between the edges of the doorframe, hair ungelled and flopping into his face, clad in a too big t-shirt and sweatpants Mason doesn't ever remember him putting on. He's wearing hospital issued non-slip socks, the bulky, ugly kind they color code according to fall risk.

He stares at Liam, empty handed and wide eyed, like he's seeing him for the first time, and Liam must see something he recognizes, because his face goes from startled to soft in three seconds flat.

"Hey," he says quietly, turning his entire upper body towards where Theo is lingering in the doorway, fingers flexing like he's not sure what to do with them, not sure if he's _allowed_. "Hey big guy, you just gonna stand there or what?"

Theo's mouth opens and closes, and Mason snorts inwardly. Theo may be built like a brick wall, but he's not tall, not even taller than Mason, who's only average height at best.

Liam sighs then, when he realizes Theo's not going to move without being further prompted, and he stretches out an arm, murmurs, "C'mere," and Mason watches, dumbfounded, as Theo _goes_.

He rolls forward onto the balls of his feet, hesitant for the briefest of seconds before he's launching himself at Liam, all but crawling into the bed with him as he takes Liam's face into his hands, eyes glittering diamond hard in the half light.

They stare at one another, Liam's own hands moving to grip at Theo's wrists as they breathe together and Mason's heart skips a beat. He's known Liam for more than a decade, knows his every tell and quirk, can read his every expression, and he's never seen Liam look at anyone like _that_.

Theo huffs after a moment, as if he's displeased about something or other, and then he's shifting again, this time to lean in closer, to press his face to the juncture between Liam's jaw and collarbone, achingly familiar and intimate. Mason's heart jumps again, and he wonders if he should look away.

Liam doesn't seem at all surprised, hardly jostled at all by Theo's wandering hands and lips, and he responds by rubbing his cheek up against Theo's warmly, like he's saying hello.

"Theo," Liam says, clear, acknowledging, and then softer, " _Theo_."

Theo settles minutely, one hand cupped around Liam's cheek as he rests his face in the crook of Liam's neck, just breathing, not speaking, barely moving.

Mason stares.

"Easy," Liam murmurs, starkly reminiscent and entirely different from the way the hunter had spat the word at Theo not twenty four hours earlier. "Easy, now. Whatever happened back there, it's gone, it's done. We're out of it, you with me?"

Theo lets out a breath, harsh and dry and Mason can see Liam shiver, feels the reverberation of it in his own chest. Theo turns his head ever so slightly, running his nose along the column of Liam's neck and Liam lets him, tilting just far enough that Theo can breathe him in without much effort.

Theo pauses, forehead pressed to Liam's cheek as though he's stabilizing himself, and the tension in the air is suffocating, held back by something wire thin and Mason braces himself for the _snap_.

" _With you_." The words are troubled and coarse, but Theo's shoulders slump further into Liam and Liam holds him closer, one hand wrapped around the back of Theo's neck, grounding.

"Hate you," Theo continues, and Mason has to stifle a stunned laugh at the _audacity_ of that, of Theo snuggling up to Liam like he can't bear to breathe air that doesn't smell like Mason's best friend and Mason's best friend only. "I should strangle you."

Liam does the job for him, snickering at Theo like he was waiting for the lie before it had even slipped out, his free hand never halting its slow trek down Theo's spine. "You say that a lot," he retorts, happy and still a little fuzzy sounding from the near death nap he'd just woken up from. "I'm beginning to think you don't really mean it."

"Shut the fuck up," Theo replies, but it's ragged and brimming with so much relief the entire room feels brighter just at the sound. "I liked it better when you were unconscious."

Mason blinks at them, wondering if he'd entered some kind of twisted parallel universe when the hunters had knocked him out yesterday evening, one where Liam and Theo are _LiamandTheo_ ; some amorphous, two headed creature that spits insults and gives off wounded puppy vibes in bulk.

Theo pulls back ever so slightly, just enough so that he can meet Liam's eyes again, and even from his chair across the room, Mason can see the way his pupils are blown wide, high on proximity and whatever Liam smells like to his chimera's nose.

"You wanna get a nap in?" Liam offers, patting the space next to him as though there's even room for the two of them in the creaky old bed, and Mason frowns in disbelief.

"I'm already healing," Liam points out, when Theo balks momentarily either at the lack of space or at the idea of further aggravating Liam's injuries. "Besides, I'm not stupid. I know most of those bullets you took were meant for me, dumbass. You should've been worse off than I was, probably would've been if you weren't this dedicated to being so damn _quirky_."

Theo scowls. "Sorry I'm just built different, I guess," he mutters, but he rolls onto the mattress, crawling gingerly across Liam's body until he can fit himself in the space between Liam and the edge of the mattress.

"Yeah, yeah, you're not like all the other girls," Liam quips, one hand coming up to rest in Theo's hair as they settle back together, Theo's leg flung over both of Liam's on top of the covers, cheek pillowed on his shoulder. "Trust me, I know all about you."

Once Theo's made himself comfortable, Mason takes that opportunity to make himself known once more, clearing his throat at the two of them in a reminder that they're not actually alone.

Liam turns back to him, face lighting up again, the strange heaviness in his gaze draining away as he offers Mason a good-natured smirk.

"At least you avoided the hospital bed this time around," he says, and Mason can only nod in agreement, still a little lost. Liam seems to pick up on it, on the way Mason's eyes keep flicking to Theo draped over him proprietarily.

"Ignore this one," he snorts, holding out his other arm to draw Mason forward into a one armed hug. "He just wants attention."

Theo growls a little, but it's nothing like before, half-hearted and almost playful from where it's muffled in Liam's armpit. Liam pinches him, then splays the same hand possessively over Theo's side, grinning tiredly up at Mason.

"You kinda look like shit," he says, and Mason can't help but grin back.

"You almost _died_ ," he replies, stumbling a little over the word as he crosses both arms. "If I look like shit, then what does that make you?"

Liam smiles wider, sharper. "A badass," he answers.

An exasperated huff rises up from the other half of the bed. "You _smell_ like ass," Theo accuses, but he doesn't move at all to speak, nose still plastered between Liam's arm and chest.

"Apparently not," Mason retorts, unable to stop himself, and Liam barks out a laugh as Theo raises a single, rebellious finger in the air. "Yeah? Right back at you."

There's no heat to it, Mason can't manage it at all, not now when they're alive, safe in the hospital--as safe as anyone could ever be in _this_ hospital, anyways--and secure in each other's presence. It's still a little too surreal, seeing Theo curled up into Liam like some mutt, gruff and fiercely loyal in a way Mason hadn't believed he was capable of just yesterday.

He's not sure how he feels about it, about _Theo_ , to be perfectly honest, and he knows Liam is his best friend, that he values Mason's every opinion, but Mason looks at the way they're tangled together amongst the sheets and knows there's no way he's going to talk Liam out of this one.

With the way Liam folds himself into Theo, his cheekbone pressing against Theo's hair as they breathe quietly, comfortably in the tiniest hospital bed known to man, Mason thinks that maybe, just maybe, he won't need to.

**Author's Note:**

> So my headcanon is that Liam is just some guy and Theo is essentially his weird supernatural equivalent of a stupidly aggressive attack yorkie who bites if you even look funny in Liam's direction. This is not at all contradicted by the fact that Theo has a tendency to bark out loud at various moments in the actual show while shifting, nor by the fact that he canonically attaches himself to Liam's ankle like a stubborn dog and refuses to let go. It's his fault, not mine.
> 
> This won't be the last you see of me, and yes, I do mean that as a threat.


End file.
